


i guess we'll just have to adjust

by sidnihoudini



Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: Angst, Halloween, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-06
Updated: 2014-10-06
Packaged: 2018-02-20 03:02:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2412548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sidnihoudini/pseuds/sidnihoudini
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Halloween nights, from 2014 down to 2006 | He and Chris broke up for the last time a year ago, and like any fractured relationship, they had split things equally.  Chris had taken California, and Zach had taken New York.  Two separate coasts for two people who couldn’t be together, and even then, sometimes it hardly felt like it was far enough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i guess we'll just have to adjust

_halloween  
2014_

Zach hadn’t meant to end up back here.

His flight is already booked for six AM - nice and early, he’ll be back into the city before noon - and over the last few days, he’s been methodically checking off the ever dwindling tasks that remain on his LA to-do list. All of these things add up to one great big neon sign that hangs over his head and reads “you shouldn’t be here.” 

Realistically, he should be back at Neal’s place, watching The Great Pumpkin with a slice of pizza in one hand, and a bottle of beer in the other. He should be handing candy out to trick or treaters. He should be packing his bags, texting Miles, and going to sleep.

He shouldn’t be back in the house that he will no longer officially own as of midnight, wandering through rooms and corridors that have long since been empty. Most recently, they’ve been full of ghosts. Sure the walls are the same color, and the kitchen counter tops are still covered in the same tile, but being here now Zach has never - ever - felt more homesick.

Standing in the middle of the living room, Zach crosses both arms over his chest, and lets his bleary gaze trail around the room. This was the first place that he ever lived as a real, bonafide grown-up. It was the place he’d been living in when his agent had called, first with Heroes news, and, years later, to let him know that he’d been recommended for the role of Dr. Spock. He’d adopted Noah a few months after first moving in, and he and Neal had co-signed the initial round of Before the Door contracts right there, where the kitchen table used to be. He had his first grown up party in this house, on Halloween.

Zach smiles a little at the memories, even though he’s sad inside.

He walks through the kitchen and pushes open the patio doors, letting himself step out onto the deck to absorb the twinkling lights of Hollywood rolling forever below him. He’d driven around for a little while in his rental car before coming here. He had been trying to clear his head, trying to shake himself out from under the grey cloud that had been hanging over him since he’d first arrived at LAX a few days ago. It hadn’t worked and, even now, he isn’t sure whether being here at all is making him feel better or worse.

Being here - in this city, in general - is hard. California is the equivalent of a boulder tied to his ankle, and being back in this house again, in this neighborhood which has hardly changed, is like being thrown into the deep end of the pool. It’s all consuming, and makes him feel like he’s sinking, drowning.

He and Chris broke up for the last time a year ago, and like any fractured relationship, they had split things equally. Chris had taken California, and Zach had taken New York. Two separate coasts for two people who couldn’t be together, and even then, sometimes it hardly felt like it was far enough.

Sighing, Zach glances around, and then sits down on one of the concrete benches that overlook the view. For old times sake, he pulls a cigarette out of his pocket and lights it up. The butt he’s planning to deposit in the ceramic planter he’s sitting beside will be a gift to the new owners, whoever they are, when he hands his keys over tomorrow.

Sitting here, Zach decides that this is officially a contender for the worst Halloween he’s had since he dressed up like Bowie in the eighth grade. Back then he’d had absolutely no right to be dressing up as such a svelte, polished man at all. Frowning at the memory, Zach flicks his cigarette ash against the ground, and crosses his legs at the ankle. Fuck it, he decides, taking another deep drag. Fuck everything about Halloween, except for candy corn and the original vinyl recording of “Monster Mash.”

Zach starts singing the tune in his head as he continues to look at nothing in particular, his eyes unfocused as he studies the rolling hills and lights beneath him. It’s a surprise to hear the side gate latch unhook and swing open behind him.

For one horrifying second, Zach is convinced that the new homeowners are about to walk in and catch him brooding, eyes dark and feeling dreary as he overlooks the Hollywood hills with a secret cigarette balanced between two fingers. Shortly thereafter, he is even more horrified to realize that it isn’t the new homeowners at all.

It’s Chris, staring back at Zach staring at him, both of them like two deers caught in one big, shared, bright headlight.

Zach briefly entertains the thought of jumping over the railing, and pretending that this moment has not transpired at all. But for some reason, looking at Chris as he stands there, one hand still awkwardly braced against the top of the gate, Zach can’t will his body to move. For a second he even forgets to breathe. His cigarette hangs unmoved in one hand, his mouth dropped slightly open as he stares across the expanse of his soon-to-be-not deck.

“Sorry,” Chris finally says, looking embarrassed as he takes a step back, presumably to get away from the way that Zach is still openly staring at him. Zach hopes that he doesn’t outwardly look as unhinged as he suddenly feels on the inside. Chris clears his throat, self consciously scratches at the nape of his neck, and then adds, “I had no idea you were, uh. Still in town.”

Frowning, Zach finally shrugs and glances down at his hand, at the burnt out butt of his cigarette. After a second of contemplation, he raises one eyebrow, looks back over to Chris, and finally replies, “Sorry. Do you… come here often?”

“No - _no_ ,” Chris answers, shaking his head. He has the presence of mind to at least look a little offended at Zach’s question, as he finally lets go of the gate and takes a step towards where Zach is sitting. Zach feels his insides twist at the close proximity; he has no idea how they will be able to handle another film together. “I’m - sorry. This is weird. I just, I knew that this place sold, so…”

Zach sighs. Without meaning to, he pats the spot on the bench beside him with one palm.

“I know, man,” He says, letting his gaze drift back to his own feet, his hand to his lap. Flip flops, classic Zach. “Don’t worry about it. Let the wild rumpus start.”

A second later, he feels the warmth of Chris’ body standing next to him. His own body responds in that familiar way that it always does when Chris is in his presence, arm hair standing up on end, like his body is preparing for a chemical reaction.

Chris bends and sits down on the bench next to Zach, shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip. He exhales.

“This makes everything seem permanent,” Chris says, after a moment. His voice is soft, careful. Truthful.

Zach nods and looks over, turning his head just enough to study Chris’ profile. He pauses, and then replies, “Well - it is.”

“I know,” Chris whispers, licking his lips. He’s staring at the empty fire pit - the same fire pit they’ve sat around maybe a million times before, drinking and laughing and arguing semantics and kissing - but now there are only shadows in his eyes, playing behind the features of his face. The expression is familiar to Zach; that haunted mask. He’s still studying the lines of Chris’ face when Chris turns back to him, frowning, and adds, “I didn’t realize this was a forever type thing. I always thought that you would come back.”

Shrugging, Zach finally leans over to bury the burnt out butt of his cigarette into the plant pot. Just like he’d promised himself.

“This house is full of skeletons and monsters,” Zach replies, voice quiet. He gets dirt underneath his fingernails, then flicks a glance over to Chris’ face as he adds, “The kind that you can’t successfully exorcise.”

Chris smiles. It’s slow and warm, and stretches from one cheek over to the other until it’s no longer lopsided, but full of sunshine instead. It damn near lights up the night. Zach’s insides recoil and slam up against the curves of his ribcage. All of a sudden it feels like his insides are outside, and the most important parts of him are struggling to be closer - to get closer - to Chris.

“Spooky,” Chris replies, oblivious, before bumping his shoulder gently against Zach’s. He looks away and sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, his eyes dancing over the tree line below them before he glances back and adds, “One point for relevant idiom usage. Kinda weird timing though, right? I guess Halloween was always kinda our time of the year.”

Still recovering, Zach nods and exhales, turning to stare out over the lights, the ink black sky.

“Yeah, strange,” Zach whispers, quietly agreeing. When he thinks back to the first Halloween that he and Chris spent together, he can’t help the little smile that creeps onto his face. This time of year always feels like coming home. He returns the shoulder bump without thinking about it, and then adds, “It’s a good time of the year.”

~

_halloween  
2013_

“Trick or treat,” Chris grins, standing on the other side of Zach’s front door with an overnight bag thrown over one shoulder.

Zach is so surprised that he almost drops the bowl of popcorn he’s holding. The momentary slip gives Skunk and Noah just enough time to start dancing around, Skunk making it out into the hallway before Zach snaps back into reality, grinning wide as he bends to set the popcorn down and snag Skunk by the back of the collar.

“I thought you couldn’t get a flight out,” Zach finally says, wrangling Skunk inside before he closes the door. His heart feels like it’s running at about a million beats an hour - when the doorbell rang, he’d expected it to be some sheltered apartment trick-or-treater, not the person he’d been viscerally missing since August. All of a sudden the fact that Chris is here, in the flesh, smacks Zach across the face like a bag full of pennies and he steps forward, pulling Chris in for a hug as he adds, “Oh my god, hi.”

Face buried in the warm curve of Zach’s shoulder, Chris closes his eyes, and lets that feeling sink low in his stomach. It’s that put back together, coming home click of the puzzle pieces that always jangle around loose inside of him feeling. 

When Zach is around, those pieces don’t make a sound.

“Yeah, I totally lied about that,” Chris grins, pulling back an inch. He smooths one hand over Zach’s shoulder, down to his elbow and over his forearm before he takes another step away. The dogs are still dancing around their feet so Chris kneels down to give them a proper scratch. Skunk loses interest quickly, but Noah, forever his long time buddy, sticks around until Chris pats his haunch one last time and then stands up, grinning back at Zach as he asks, “Surprised?”

Still smiling, Zach nods, and runs his palm over the crown of Chris’ head. He studies Chris’ forehead, Chris’ eyebrows, the bridge of Chris’ nose before he lets his hand slide down the back of Chris’ neck, until he can pull them closer, bringing them together for a kiss.

“I missed you, man,” Chris sighs, squeezing Zach’s forearm before he takes a step back to shrug out of his jacket, and kick his shoes off in the direction of the front door. Zach’s sneakers and boots sit in an organized line along the floor boards, some of them looking like they’ve never even been worn. Chris grins over at Zach, and adds, “I’m not flying back until Sunday night.”

Zach smiles, reaching forward to pull Chris close again, and wrapping his arms around Chris’ middle as he presses another kiss to the side of Chris’ mouth, the edge of his jaw, the muscle of his neck.

It hasn’t been easy, this road that they’ve walked together. But moments like this, they make it worth all of the terrible shit they’ve done to one another.

“You have made my entire week so much better,” Zach says, his voice soft, as Chris smiles and reaches one hand up to brush a piece of hair away from Zach’s forehead.

~

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Chris is chanting, his eyes bleary and glazed as he stares, wide-eyed, up at Zach’s face.

Zach’s hair is uncontrollable, now, falling forward, over his forehead, sweaty and in pieces. He sinks into Chris over and over, his eyes flickering between Chris’ face, and down to where his cock is sinking into Chris’ ass, his hips rolling slowly at first, and then in short, sharp thrusts. It changes the rhythm in which Chris’ feet bob beside either of Zach’s ears.

When they’re like this, Chris sounds inconsolable, completely desperate for the way that Zach touches him. Zach’s hands on Chris’ body, sliding up his throat and over his face, thumb along the line of his jaw as they kiss, first deep, and then just lips as Zach moves back, pushing the hair up off of his forehead so he can hold onto Chris’ legs instead.

“Gonna,” Chris manages to say, before he’s coming, his arms going up over his head, his hands twisting against the teak paneled head board, similar to the one that Zach left in California.

Chris jerks hard as he comes, Zach holding him steady, fucking him through it. Zach’s hands hold Chris’ hips down and he leans in, thrusting harder and biting at Chris’ shoulder until he comes, too. Zach collapses on Chris, letting Chris’ legs slide down from where they had been braced over both of Zach’s shoulders.

“Oh my god,” Zach groans, breathing hard and trying to blink the sweat out of his eyes as he stares down at Chris. Chris is grinning, clearly blissed out, as he reaches up to smooth his hands over the curve of Zach’s bare shoulders.

After a second of laying there, Zach finally picks his head up and leans in for a kiss instead. Their mouths move together, nothing more than a line of sloppy, half-assed kisses.

“I’m starving,” Chris announces, still out of breath and brushing his fingers through Zach’s hair.

Zach laughs, face warm and content as he studies Chris’ eyes, nose, mouth. The strangest feeling comes over him, as he watches Chris watch him. It’s all consuming, almost claustrophobic. He wonders if it will be like this forever.

“Let’s order dinner,” He answers, trying to shake the feeling off. “And watch Rosemary’s Baby.”

That makes Chris grin again, one hand coming up to join Zach’s at the side of his head. Chris replies, “I feel like that’s what you were going to do whether I was here or not. I want in on that popcorn, by the way.”

“Anything babe,” Zach answers, voice teasing as he rolls off of Chris and half sits up, reaching for his underwear. He snags them off of the foot of the bed and looks over his shoulder to ask, “So pizza, or chinese?”

Chris stretches out across Zach’s bed as he watches Zach stand up and walk across the bedroom, adjusting the elastic band of his underwear as he heads for the bathroom. It’s so weird to be here, Chris thinks to himself, in this mirrored universe where Zach lives on the east coast and is not within arm’s reach.

It makes it hard, sometimes, and even laying here tonight, Chris wonders how long they can stretch the elasticity between them before it snaps.

“Chinese, always,” Chris finally answers, pushing himself up onto his elbows. He listens as Zach bumbles around in the bathroom, flushing the toilet and letting the tap run.

All of a sudden Zach is in the doorway, looking excited as he says, “There’s this incredible place that delivers - seriously, best lemon chicken in the city.”

“Sounds great, man,” Chris smiles, before sinking back into the bed.

It’s not exactly home, here, but with Zach around, it feels too close for him to care.

~

_halloween  
2012_

The cast party is strange, mostly because they’re in another one of their on-again/off-again/and-now-we’re-definitely-off-again phases.

Production went all out after being given the keys to Zach’s place for the staff party. They’ve decked it out with Halloween decorations on Paramount’s budget: cotton spider webs, a fog machine, orange and black streamers hanging down from the ceiling. Zach thinks that it’s nice to be like this again, with the people who are like a second family to him, but he can’t help the weird, detached feeling growing deep in his chest.

Jonathan texts him the entire time. It’s clear that he means well, but it makes Zach feel like absolute shit.

“Are you kidding, standing over here by yourself? We gotta dance,” Zoe announces, coming up to him as he’s tucking his iPhone away.

She’s kind of dressed up like a witch - just the pointed hat and a bit of green lipstick - and Zach can’t help but laugh when she reaches for him, cackling dramatically as she grabs at his forearms. She tries to lead him backwards towards the living room, where a few people have turned the floor into a makeshift dance area by pushing Zach’s coffee table and couch out of the way.

Whoever’s in charge of the playlist is throwing out songs like Sweet Transvestite, Thriller, and the theme from Ghostbusters. Zach has never felt so simultaneously young and old at the same time.

He lets himself get pulled along, a little drunk, a little loose, a little stupid. Zoe leads him over to where Simon, Alice, JJ’s wife, and a few of the crew members are dancing, doing terrible versions of the monster mash. Simon and Alice went to great lengths in dressing up as Hansel and Gretal, which is apparently some kind of strange Scottish thing that Simon managed to talk Alice into over drinks a few weeks ago. Zach vaguely remembers overhearing their conversation.

Similar to Zoe’s witch hat and Zach’s department store vampire fangs, JJ’s wife is only wearing a pair of cat ears along with her street clothes. Zach feels a little weird, all of a sudden, standing there in his living room with fog drifting around his feet, Spock hair on his head, and sharp fake plastic teeth in his mouth.

They all dance to Thriller together, and thank god Zach is a few drinks in because the booze is the only thing that makes it bearable, besides the fact that he gets to see Zoe ballet dance MJ’s zombie line. By the time Zach wanders back to the food table he’s a little sweaty around the hairline, and his vampire teeth are long gone.

“Hey, so apparently Cho startled Karl like half an hour ago, total accident. Now Karl is hiding under that table waiting to out-scare him,” Chris announces, coming seemingly out of nowhere to stand at Zach’s elbow. 

Zach, surprised, looks over. Chris is a little more committed to this Halloween thing, and falls somewhere between Simon and Zoe on the costume commitment linear scale. He’s decked out in a store bought Freddy Kreuger costume - minus the face paint and claws.

Gaze drifting back, Zach follows Chris’ finger when he raises his hand to point out Karl, currently crouching behind Zach’s couch. Zach laughs without meaning to and then shakes his head and has a sip of his drink, giving a thumbs up signal when Karl catches the two of them watching him.

“Did you just get here?” Zach asks, going for casual as he glances over at Chris. “I didn’t see you come in.”

Chris nods, and pops a grape from the fruit tray into his mouth before answering, “Dominique dropped me off. I was hanging out with my sister’s kids, it’s their first year trick or treating.”

“Cute?” Zach asks, raising one eyebrow. Obviously they were adorable - Zach remembers Katie’s twins being total Pine clones, mostly taking after Robert even though they did have their dad’s personality. Zach had met them a few times at various Pine conventions over the years, and had been pretty enamored from the start.

Grinning, Chris nods and reaches for his phone. He pauses to set his drink down on the table before he pulls his phone out of his pocket.

“Fucking adorable, man, you gotta check this out,” Chris announces, head bowed as he taps at the phone screen and brings his photo app up, so he can flip through a few photos of the two kids. They’re dressed up as Woody and Buzz and are grinning up into the camera, and Zach can’t help but laugh and make an ‘aw’ noise as Chris angles the phone screen in his direction. “Right? Fucking killed me.”

Zach smiles and watches as Chris puts his phone away, and then picks his drink back up.

“That’s great to see, man. I’m glad they’re doing well. Do you think Katie will have any more?” He asks, and just like that, they’ve fallen right back into the platonic side of their not so platonic track record.

Chris shakes his head and sips his drink, saying, “No way. She loves them but man, she hates kids. It’s funny to watch.”

“She’s a good mom,” Zach smiles, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. The last time he saw Katie was a few years ago, when the twins had first been born and they’d all celebrated New Years at Chris’ parents house in Burbank. It had been a weird time in Zach’s life, and things had changed for him once he’d held one of those tiny babies in his arms.

They fall into companionable silence as they watch Karl, still acting like an idiot as he tries to sneak up on Cho. Chris giggles under his breath when Karl tries to pop up too fast and smacks his shoulder against the table ledge. Zach can’t help but laugh, too, looking sideways at Chris as Cho finally catches on and turns around, confused.

It’s been a stilted few months. They’re almost halfway through shooting the sequel, and Zach has never felt more like he’s running a marathon since the first week he worked on Heroes. They shot the warp core scene a few days ago, and ever since Zach has felt like he’s been tossed into the ocean and forced to swim home. It’s been physically and emotionally draining, and has made it that much harder to snap back into the usual check and balance system that he and Chris so carefully share.

“How’s Jonathan, I thought he was in town?” Chris asks, interrupting Zach’s thoughts.

Zach shakes his head, trying to shake off the feeling too, and reaches for a piece of cheese from the cheese platter. It’s the only food here that has made it out of the “this must be shaped to look like a witch finger” campaign in one piece.

“He got optioned for a script read this week in Brooklyn,” Zach answers, pausing to chew. Chris’ eyebrows jerk up into his hairline as he gives a ‘good for him’ head nod. “It’s for a new pilot, not sure what it is yet. I’ll probably fly back for a few days once we wrap the bridge stuff this week.”

Licking his lips, Chris leans forward to snag a piece of cheese off of the same tray Zach’s been working on.

“This isn’t weird, right? Like, working together again and - you know - all of this?” Chris asks.

Zach hardly thinks that this is an appropriate venue for this particular stream of conversation, but with a glass of wine in his hand, it doesn’t feel that scary anymore. He’s a grown up, he can totally look Chris in the face and talk about this, especially since they’ve hardly let themselves come close to having this conversation any other time.

The promo tour will be another story entirely; Zach can feel the departure of both Jonathan and Dominique hanging in the not too distant future. But for now, Zach shakes his head, and offers Chris a cracker for his cheese. They broke up two years ago, this shouldn’t be an issue anymore.

“I’ve got Spock brain right now, man,” Zach shrugs. It doesn’t answer Chris’ question, and they both know it. Chris looks at him sideways, peering at Zach out of his peripheral vision even as he accepts Zach’s cracker offering. “I honestly don’t have the mental capacity to start evaluating my life. Not until we’re done with this movie, at least.”

Chris nods and replies, his mouth full, “You’re right. Sorry, I don’t wanna…”

“I get it, Chris,” Zach answers, thinking about the pictures on Chris’ phone, and the way that they’d easily fallen back into line, hip to hip. He thinks about the careful avoidance of Chris’ girlfriend’s existence, and his own brushing off of Jonathan’s involvement in his life. They’re both shitty people. Frowning a little, Zach can’t quite look over at Chris again, but he does repeat, “I get it.”

It’s one of those things that he thinks only the two of them will ever understand.

~

_halloween  
2011_

“I may have underestimated the candy situation,” Zach announces, as he closes the front door and turns to set the gigantic candy bowl back on the table. “We’re dangerously low, and it’s only 7:30.”

Across the room, Joe raises his eyebrows and presses play on the DVR again. He’s spread out across Zach’s couch, wearing the bottom half of a skeleton pajama set, and a t-shirt that says ‘candy inspector’ across the chest. It’s obvious that he does not care about Zach’s seasonal candy plight.

“The neighborhood kids will have to deal, man,” Joe finally says, watching Zach as he comes back around the coffee table, stepping over the bridge of Joe’s legs so he can get back to his seat on the couch. On the TV screen, someone lets out a bloodcurdling scream: it’s the Quinto horror movie marathon 2011, bitches. “You could start handing out condoms. Don’t think I didn’t look in your bathroom drawer.”

Zach rolls his eyes, and goes to sit back down on the couch just as the doorbell rings again. From the other room, Zach can hear the quiet sound of Noah’s muffled barking.

“You’re drunk,” He announces, changing course to head back over to the door as Joe pauses their movie again.

A few weeks ago Joe found out his girlfriend would be in Texas on business through the last week of October, so he’d volunteered to spend the night at Zach’s place, watching scary movies and handing out candy to trick or treaters. He’s also been making it his business to get drunk on all of the wine Zach brought back from Napa Valley last week, but that was only a happy surprise he’d discovered upon his arrival.

“I’m enjoying the company and all, but why aren’t you at some weird ass Halloween party instead?” Joe asks, after Zach hands another piece of candy to a little girl dressed up like a sunflower, and closes the door again. “You’re officially out, and you decided to dress up like a float in the gay pride parade. You’re pretty much guaranteed dick tonight, man.”

Zach makes a face and snags another bottle of wine out of the crate sitting in the middle of the living room floor.

“Okay first, I’m fireworks, so get it right,” He starts, standing in front of the TV screen as he opens the wine bottle. The other two they’ve finished off are sitting pathetically empty at Joe’s bare feet. “And second, I don’t want to get laid, man. I just wanna, you know - sit on my couch, and have a drink, and hand out some candy, and watch Creature from the Black Lagoon with you. I don’t know why I want that last part, but the heart is a strange thing.”

Rolling his eyes, Joe sits forward so he can extend his wine glass out to Zach for a refill.

“While that warms the cockles of my heart, I can tell that you’re totally fucking lying,” Joe answers, raising one eyebrow as Zach pours him another glass of wine across the coffee table. Zach rolls his eyes at his brother. When Joe isn’t being a brash idiot, he plays the role of a concerned girlfriend surprisingly well. “Halloween is like, your thing, man, and I seriously do not believe that you got dressed up just to sit at home.”

Frowning, Zach leans down to set their now half empty wine bottle back on the coffee table. He picks up his glass instead, and wills the doorbell to ring. When that doesn’t work he sips at his drink and tries to hide in the glass as Joe presses on, staring at him openly.

“I know Chris got invited to the same parties that I did,” He finally says, hoping his voice sounds even. “Which is fine. I know he’s dating some new model, which is also fine. I am just… not fine. You remember last year.”

Joe seems satisfied with the answer. After a moment of silence, he adds, “You’re like Mary J. Blige, man. No more drama.”

“Yeah, well,” Zach nods, a little embarrassed at the way he feels his cheeks heating up. It shouldn’t be like this anymore. The shit that Chris does with his own life should be nothing more than passing scenery in Zach’s rear view mirror. Even still, he can’t help it when he makes the mistake of adding, “Zoe says Chris is pretty serious about her.”

That makes Joe falter. He looks up at Zach, clearly surprised.

He and Chris have always had this weird back and forth, push and pull type thing. It had been there since the first night they’d met, and ever since then they’d always spun in one another’s orbit. Other people passed through their lives on the regular, but they’d never faltered, never changed course.

Even now, barely a year since they’d broken up, Zach had been under the impression that Chris was no further moved on than he was.

“Sorry to hear that, man,” Joe says, after a few moments. “That’s shitty. Are you okay?”

The doorbell rings again, and Zach hears Noah bark in the other room.

Zach fixes a smile across his face. It feels empty, and hollowed out.

“I’m dressed up like fireworks on the fourth of July,” He says, weighing his words carefully as he stands up again. It’s obvious that Joe hardly believes him as he adds, “I couldn’t be better.”

~

Across the city, Chris is absinthe drunk, and eating sushi off of a naked Japanese girl.

He spends the night touching Dominique’s hair and smiling at her jokes, and for one second, he hardly feels empty at all.

~

_halloween  
2010_

To say that he and Chris have been having issues is an understatement.

“Ease up on the grip, cowboy,” Kristen greets, a wide smile on her face as she sidles up to Zach at the kitchen counter. Zach has been standing in front of the sink for the last ten minutes, shucking corn for the bar-be-que. It’s been a strangely therapeutic process.

He glances over at her, and has the presence of mind to look at least a little bit embarrassed. He hadn’t realized that he’d been so obvious, so transparent in showing the tension between them.

“Hey, sorry,” Zach smiles, shaking his head a little as he looks back down at his hands. When he glances up again, he catches his own gaze reflecting back at him in the window pane over the sink. Without meaning to, he takes in the stoic, expressionless look on his face. It works, strangely enough, with the whole Frankenstein thing he’s got going on. He turns back to Kristen, and says, “I didn’t hear you come in, where’s Dax? Love the makeup.”

She gives him one of her dazzling smiles, and then brings one hand up to her face to strike a pose. She’s dressed up as a zombie sailor, pallid face a stark contrast to her sequined blue and white outfit, and it’s so Kristen that it makes Zach’s teeth hurt.

“We just got here,” She answers, leaning in to bump up against Zach’s side. “Dax is in the living room trying to make the limbo happen, and thank you! I thought that the red lip would really bring out the gray underneath my eyes. Where’s Chris?”

Zach rolls his eyes, and then nods his head towards the window.

“Out there,” He replies. Kristen steps closer to him, pushing up on the counter top so she can peer through the window pane, too. Sure enough Chris is standing outside on the deck, cowboy hat sitting crooked on his head as he gestures widely, spilling his beer a little as he laughs with Joe and Joe’s new girlfriend. They’re all smoking, even though individually they maintained that they’d quit. “So tell me again what you said about how I always fall in love with people who are wildly unavailable?”

Kristen drops her weight back onto her feet and frowns, reaching up to pat his shoulder.

“Let’s get drunk instead of playing armchair therapist,” She says, still sounding cheerful as she reaches for the paper bag she’d set on the counter upon her arrival. She unbags the two wine bottles she brought along with her, and adds, “Doctor’s orders.”

Laughing, Zach throws the last corn cob he’s shucked into the pot of water sitting beside the sink.

“Fuck it, let’s do it,” He agrees, and then asks, “How bad of an idea do you think shots before wine is?”

Kristen’s mouth drops wide open, and then turns up into a grin as she uncorks the wine with her bare hands, and raises one eyebrow.

“It sounds like such a horrible idea,” She announces, laughing. “So where’s the tequila? Let’s do it!”

~

Which is how Zach ends up on his knees in the bathroom two hours later, violently throwing up into the toilet, his green makeup smeared everywhere as his brain does 180 after 180 within the confines of his skull.

“Zach,” Chris calls from the other side of the locked door, knocking and trying to turn the knob. “Are you okay? Let me in.”

Zach spits into the toilet bowl and flushes, and then shuffles across the bathroom tile on his hands and knees. When he’s within striking distance of the door he reaches, and manages to get the lock undone just as Chris starts twisting the knob again, impatient as he rushes in. He looks concerned and pretty drunk himself as he closes the door, and then falls back against it.

“I’m drunk too, sorry,” Chris hiccups, moving forward to lean against the bathroom counter top with one hand as he steadies himself. “Are you okay?”

Turning back to the toilet, Zach retches again, and then leans his sweaty forehead against the curve of the hand he’s resting against the toilet seat. He spits into the water. The puking doesn’t make him feel any better, which means that he has reached a particular plateau of drunk sick.

“Yeah,” Zach finally answers, spitting again. His mouth tastes like tequila and the spice from the appetizers he served earlier in the night.

After a moment of steadying himself, he finally gets it together long enough to push away from the toilet. He falls back against the wall instead, and tries to relax as another wave of nausea courses through his body. When he looks over at Chris he can barely focus, vision spinning, sight blurred enough that he has to close his eyes and drop his head back against the wall.

Zach is so drunk that he can’t help the way the next question slips out of his mouth.

“Who do I have to be to unlock the other parts of you?” He blurts, surprising them both. “When the fuck are you going to love me enough?”

There’s a pause as Chris stares at him, his mouth dropping open, his eyes bright and wide. Zach’s vision is spinning so viciously that he can only focus in on Chris’ expression for a moment, and then two. Chris tries to kneel down but slams into the door instead, prompting a loud round of laughter from behind it. The party clearly still rages on.

“What - what?” Chris asks, not realizing that he’s repeating himself as he crawls forward, towards Zach’s open legs. His hands are clumsy on the bathroom tile as he reaches Zach’s feet, eyes shockingly blue and bleary in the late night florescent light. “I love you enough. _I love you enough_.”

Zach tips his head back against the wall and squeezes his eyes closed, swallowing against the close proximity.

“It’s not just because I’m drunk,” Zach announces, as Chris leans against his shins. His weight is almost unbearable, and Zach can’t help the way that he cringes as he says, “I don’t think that you’re the person I’m supposed to be with, because I can’t figure out how this will continue to work.”

Chris is still trying to get closer, his hands sliding over Zach’s knees as he tries to process the words.

On the other side of the door, there’s the muffled sound of someone yelling before the music is cranked up to an even higher volume. The Addams Family theme song begins to rattle through the walls, and Zach, limbs still drunk, reaches up, fumbling to grab the hand towel off of the railing above his head. He brings the towel down and wipes his mouth over, eyes wet as Chris leans closer to him.

For one moment all that Zach can see is the deep blue color of Chris’ eyes, and nothing else.

“Are you breaking up with me?” Chris asks, finally getting it. As realization sets in, his voice begins to warble.

All of a sudden Zach needs to throw up again. He scrambles back to his knees, turning to the toilet bowl, and retches once more, body curling tight against the porcelain. The makeup he’d so tediously applied earlier in the night now slides right off of his face in a mixture of sweat and tears.

“I don’t know,” Zach finally manages to answer, spitting again. He blinks his eyes and reaches up to flush the toilet, before wiping his face again and leaning back, sitting on his knees. He tries to hold it together long enough to look back at Chris, who is still sitting on the floor behind him. Chris looks as though the carpet has been ripped out from beneath his feet, and a million thoughts whirl through Zach’s head, but somehow, all that comes out is, “I want kids.”

Chris’ expression changes at that. It betrays him, and shows exactly how hurt he feels. His voice is quiet, careful and guarded as he answers, “I can’t come out yet, Zach. You know that.”

“I know,” Zach nods - because he does, he gets it - and wipes a hand over his face before he looks over at Chris, his own expression miserable. He says, “I need you to be somebody who can.”

All of a sudden Chris is up, the flash bang of a firework as the alcohol betrays him, and he stumbles back against the cupboard in his haste to get to his feet. He lurches to the side, and then rips the hat off of his head. He throws it into the empty sink, and then looks down at Zach with wide, cold eyes.

“Fucking feel free, then,” Is all he says, before swinging the door open, and leaving Zach alone.

~

_halloween  
2009_

It’s kind of extraordinary, how Halloween has sort of become their thing over the last three years.

Zach isn’t exactly sure when it happened. He’s never really shared a calendar holiday with anyone else, much less with one of his significant others. Somewhere along the way, Chris had just slipped in-between the cracks, and now they had all of these yearly traditions like watching the director’s cut of Rosemary’s Baby and carving pumpkins together.

To be totally honest, it had just been a bizarre year in general, when Zach looked back at it. He had been so sure that the release of the film would change things between them, but he had been totally wrong. Nothing important had changed, nothing worth counting on his fingers. Now it was just kind of like going to work at the same office that your spouse did; Zach was the paper salesman, and Chris was the secretary.

“Christ, Zach, hold still,” Chris laughs, tongue going back between his front teeth as he uses his thumb to tilt Zach’s head to the side. Once Zach’s head is tilted, Chris reconsiders the angle of the makeup sponge he’s been using, and trades it up for a slimmer brush. He and Zach catch eyes as Chris is making the exchange, so he adds, “I have a feeling this is gonna be all over me by the end of the night.”

Grinning, Zach raises his eyebrows and shrugs a little bit as he closes his eyes, trying to relax as Chris dabs the thick black makeup against his glued down eyebrows.

“So I don’t want to rush the artistic process or anything,” Zach starts, trying not to arch his eyebrows too much as he feels Chris continuing the skeleton face outline, brush tracing over the lines of his bone structure. “But you’ve been drawing on my face for forty minutes, and Tyler just sent me a text to say he’s en route.”

Chris shrugs, letting go of Zach’s face, and says, “You can’t force artistic ability, man. I’m seriously good at this.”

“Yeah, you could totally do this on a boardwalk somewhere,” Zach replies, only a little sarcastic as he blinks a few times and stares up into Chris’ face.

As Chris is about to reply - something about how Zach should join him with his banjo, so they could get some kind of witty family boardwalk repartee going - but then there are two short knocks at the door, and the knob twists before the door unceremoniously swings wide open.

“Santa’s here,” Tyler announces, which makes Chris laugh. Sure enough, he’s decked out in a full santa costume, fake beard and all. It’s half comforting, yet half completely terrifying.

Zach leans to the side to peer around Chris, and intones, “Oh my god.”

“Adding to that, Santa seriously wants some booze, you guys,” Tyler continues, looking pretty serious about it as he makes a beeline for the counter with a six pack of beer in one hand, and a bottle of rum in the other. “So how much longer is this makeup train running for?”

“Like, a minute,” Zach replies, in a loud tone that says ‘shut the fuck up, because we’ll be done when I say we’re done.’ He almost goes cross-eyed as he watches the curve of Chris’ hand moving back to the bridge of his nose, but quickly moves onto raising his eyebrows and coasting his gaze back in Tyler’s general direction. Zach adds, “The santa thing makes you look like a total creep, by the way.”

Tyler grins and tries to knock the toes of his boots together as he answers, “Come and take a ride on my sleigh, baby.”

“Jingle my bells,” Chris supplies, as he takes a step back to survey the work he’s done on Zach’s face. Considering it’s the first time he’s ever used makeup in this capacity, it’s not a total disaster. He grins and says, voice deep, “Bone daddy.”

That gets a wide grin out of Zach, a pulsed smile before he stands up and leans in to press a very careful kiss against Chris’ temple. Chris, always the boyscout, has been ready to leave for the last half an hour, face fingerpaint included. Zach was a great actor, an alright musician, and an absolutely horrible makeup artist.

Zach turns and heads towards his bedroom to get out of his street clothes, and into his button down and slacks.

“Your brother texted me, by the way,” Tyler yells, angling his head in the same direction that Zach disappeared in. Chris glances up as he gets to work twisting the lids back onto the makeup Zach had brought especially for their skeleton costumes. Joe was supposed to be rounding out the tri in their fecta, but hadn’t tapped into the makeup party yet. “He said he’d meet us there in like an hour.”

A moment later Zach emerges back out of his bedroom, black slacks on as his hands work up the front buttons of his dress shirt. He raises his eyebrows at Tyler in a ‘don’t really care, but thanks for the tip anyways’ type way, and then slides his suspenders up over either arm.

“Hopefully he doesn’t bring… what’s her name?” Zack asks after a second, as he comes to stand next to Chris.

Chris looks over at him and raises his eyebrows, a bit lost until he thinks back to the last time they had hung out with Joe. He’d met them in Venice Beach, where they’d all had lunch together at a patio on the boardwalk. Joe had also brought along this strange hipster girl he’d apparently been seeing over the last few days, who had all the personality of an Urban Outfitters advertisement. Secretly Chris had kind of liked her personality, but Zach had been pretty sour over it.

“Chloe,” Chris supplies, looking back over at Tyler.

Tyler makes a face from beneath the beard, and asks, “What, is Chloe a bitch or something?”

“She was nice,” Chris says, just as Zach rolls his eyes and replies, “She was just… Joe’s type.”

Snickering, Tyler shrugs and reaches up to scratch his face - itchy costume - as he replies, “Joe gets it, man. So are we calling a cab, or what?”

“Yeah,” Zach nods, reaching across the counter for his cellphone as Chris reaches for the beer he’d earlier abandoned in pursuit of painting the perfect skeleton face. Zach taps his screen, and adds, “I got it.”

Tyler raises his still unopened bottle of booze, and toasts, “Alright boys, let’s get weird.”

~

The entire night goes by in a blur.

They go to a few different parties and make a few stops along the way, judging by the number of cabs that Zach has dialed for throughout the night. 

One of the first parties they’d attended had included photographers, which Chris had carefully avoided, and the next bacon wrapped apples, which he had happily taken a personal interest in.

By the end of the night they’re at one of Zach’s producer friends parties. A mansion in the hills, and as soon as they get there, Tyler takes off with the girl he’d brought along from the previous party. His santa hat is long lost and forgotten, and his belt is still barely staying buckled up around his waist.

Joe, true to his word, had met up with them earlier in the night, unsurprisingly with Chloe in tow. He’d taken a moment to lock in as their third skeleton, team Quinto-Pine-Quinto, and Chloe had arrived dressed up as Madeline. Zach had hated the idea on principle, but Chris thought it was strangely endearing.

Now the night feels like it goes on forever, stretching far into the dark horizon.

Zach and Chris secretly hold hands. They drink too much whisky and then they dance together, even though Chris had sworn in the cab that he wouldn’t. And you know, it isn’t as scary as Zach thought that it would be, to do all of these things with Chris, in public, with the movie only recently released.

Covered in makeup, it almost feels as though they aren’t really here at all. Just two skeleton kids, moving together in the night.

In-between everything, Zach realizes that he has never felt like this. Nobody has ever made him feel like this. Being with Chris is effortless and everything at the same time, and, at that party, for the first time Zach realizes that he would do absolutely anything to make Chris stay. For some reason, something clicks when he looks at Chris’ sweaty, melting face in the DIY strobe light flashing from the ceiling. It clicks, and Zach realizes, oh. I don’t have to do this by myself anymore. Here is someone who is the same as you, and maybe, if you’re good enough, if you work hard enough, he’ll let you stay around forever.

The crowd eventually thins out, but they dance until the twilight of morning - long after Joe has gone home with his girl, and Tyler has passed out alone in the bathtub.

As morning breaks they cab back to Zach’s house, the city rolling past them outside the dewy, damp taxi window. They’re still tipsy but they aren’t wasted, just unable to stop smiling at one another, fingers crawling towards one another, arms stretching out along the leather seats.

They shower together, black and white makeup a swirl down the drain, and the whole time the water runs over them, Zach just can’t stop the way that his fingers move to touch Chris.

~

_halloween  
2007_

It’s a Halloween themed dinner party, which is strange, but it also facilitates an official-type gathering of Zach’s loved ones, which is a great feeling.

“I seriously can’t believe you two nerds are officially dating,” Kristen grins at them, her glitter covered face sparkling in the candlelight as she leans over her dinner plate with that familiar wide smile stretched across her face. She’s one of the only people Zach knows that can genuinely, effortlessly light up a room.

But that doesn’t help her right now. Zach raises his eyebrows over the steak he’s cutting up, and smoothly replies, “And I still can’t believe I finally get to upgrade my network television TV family for a real live motion picture one.”

“Oh my god!” She laughs, her mouth dropping open as she leans back in her chair, clearly scandalized. Kristen braces both palms against the edge of Zach’s dining room table, and manages to portray ‘offended, but still giggling’ as she replies, “You are the worst!”

Beside Zach, Chris laughs and reaches for his wine glass. He also sneaks a glance at Zach out of the corner of his eye as he does so, and it’s quick, but Zach still catches the minute movement. Zach can’t help the immediate burst of excitement that explodes in his stomach, bathed in warmth. 

This is the first time that he’s really introduced Chris to his extended family - namely, those he works with on NBC - and it’s funny, but having everyone here in the same room is kind of sending his belly around in circles. It feels like Christmas dinner, even though it’s only October 31st.

“ _You are the worst!_ ” Zach mimics, making his voice all pitchy and Kristen-like. Strangely enough, the only big sister little sister relationship he’s ever had with anyone also happens to be with the person who plays his love interest on TV. Luckily Zach put a metaphorical ring on the dude who plays his captain. He turns to Chris, and asks, “Babe can you grab the bottle of wine behind you?”

Chris sets his utensils down and twists around for the aforementioned bottle of wine. Practically everyone had deposited a seasonal looking wine on Zach’s side buffet table as they’d filed in - Chris had quickly come to realize that the Heroes cast were practically winos. 

As a result, the table is piled with booze and decorations. The decorations are particularly kitschy looking, black paper cats and little 1950s pumpkins with scary faces. Zach maintains that they remind him of his grandmother, but ultimately, they go perfectly with his decor.

“So this has been bothering me. Can we talk about why there aren’t any fireworks on Halloween?” Chris asks, as he hands the wine bottle across to Zach. Across the table, Kristen raises her eyebrows and fork, and nods, agreeing. “Fourth of July, Labor Day, shit man I think I’ve seen fireworks on Easter…”

He’s quickly sold most of the people at their end of the table on his argument, however Zach clearly still needs some more convincing. It’s obvious by the expression on his face as he stands there, filling Hayden’s wine glass from across the table.

“Pretty sure fireworks and elaborately themed costuming would become a pretty significant fire hazard,” Zach finally answers, as he sets the wine bottle back down on the runner trailing down the middle of the table.

Chris shakes his head and replies, “Not good enough. Darwin experiment, Zach. That’s what I want. Halloween, costumes, boxes of fireworks. Go.”

“That hardly sounds scientific,” Zach sighs, settling back down to his dinner.

Finally cluing into their debate, Hayden turns away from the conversation she had been having with a couple of the makeup girls and one of the on-set PAs, and picks up her wine glass. She laughs, “So you guys are basically a married couple.”

“Right?” Kristen shrieks, clearly drunk and a traitor. She leans forward to look down the table at Hayden, who is still alternating between cackling in laughter and drinking her fresh glass of wine.

Smiling a little, Chris manages to deflect the statement by sighing, “Fireworks, man…”

But deep down, Zach can see him bursting. Zach knows it because the feeling is ultimately familiar - he can feel it happening in his chest, too.

They’ve only been together for six months - officially, anyway - but that’s long enough, Zach thinks, unable to stop.

~

_halloween  
2006_

Zach is feeling particularly content as he walks back into his kitchen.

This is it. Tonight marks the very first party that he’s ever hosted in this house: his first big venture into real, big time, show stopping adulthood. Tonight, there will be no mixed CDs, no BYOB warnings, and no beer pong. Well, maybe no beer pong, only time will tell there, but more importantly, people are drinking hard liquor and listening to the playlist that Zach painstakingly put together.

His friends (and to be honest, some of their friends) are standing in his kitchen and his living room and out on his back porch, and even though he’d warned you’d be turned away at the door without a costume, some of them are only dressed in varying layers of commitment.

“ _So_ who’s your new guy? I didn’t realize that things were so serious,” Kristen stage whispers, bouncing up to him with a bottle of champagne in one hand. It’s rose, which means she’ll be drunk in about an hour. Zach loves Kristen so, so much.

That being said, he is also super fucking confused at this supposed new boyfriend.

“Wait, what?” He asks, the confusion in his voice genuine as he turns a hip to the counter, and peers down at Kristen with a curious expression on his face. Somewhere, in the back of his head, he is very satisfied with himself when the playlist goes to the next track, and the Monster Mash starts playing. He may or may not have slipped this song in a few times - six hours is a long time to fill.

Kristen sidles up to him, her good witch skirt pressing against his legs awkwardly, and points the neck of her wine bottle across the room. Zach follows the angle to a guy standing with his back turned to them.

With a horrifying dip in his stomach, Zach realizes that this guy has arrived wearing the perfect compliment to Zach’s costume.

Goddamnit, he thinks, realizing that he probably looks visibly surprised when Kristen starts laughing at him. He had thought he was hitting the perfect amount of retro without being overly kitschy when he’d decided to dress up as one of the monsters from Where The Wild Things Are. It had taken him an entire month to put his costume together.

“Oh - what?” He asks nobody in particular, voice lilting up in that strange high-and-then-higher way that he hated sometimes.

Still cracking up, Kristen looks _into it_ as she turns and smacks him in the shoulder with her wand. When he doesn’t immediately respond, she asks, “This wasn’t on purpose?! Oh my god, Zach, this is perfect! He’s your _Max_!”

“Oh my god, shut up, I don’t even know him - who is that?” Zach sighs, squinting a little as he tries to conspicuously stare across the room. The guy has half turned - Zach can see his profile - and is currently talking animatedly to his next door neighbor. Zach can’t believe the guy is wearing an adult onesie. “I think he goes to my trainer? I’m sort of sure he goes to my trainer.”

Without meaning to, the guy across the room looks up, and they catch eyes. It makes Zach physically recoil, because for some reason his gut reaction is to snap away and stare at Kristen’s face instead.

“That’s weird,” Kristen says, wrinkling her nose. She shrugs and adds, “Maybe he’s someone’s date.”

She sets her champagne on the counter and begins the process of cracking it open, Zach’s literary other half promptly forgotten.

“Yeah,” Zach nods, still sipping his drink. He glances back across the room again, and adds, “He seems familiar.”

~

Zach is a drink away from ordering late night Chinese for everyone when somebody sidles up to him.

“Hey, man,” An unfamiliar voice says, and Zach honestly has no idea who it is until he turns around, and feels his stomach do a flip. Close up, he can see that the guy has drawn whiskers on his cheeks with a black pencil. “Sorry, I totally did not mean to steal the whole… you know, ambiance of your costume. Weirdly enough I thought I was being original.”

Smiling, Zach shakes his head and shrugs, before he says, “It’s cool. It’s a weird coincidence, but cool all the same.”

“At least we picked different characters,” The guy says, wrinkling up his nose a bit.

Oh, damnit, something in Zach’s chest says.

“Silver lining,” Zach laughs, before setting down the chinese food menu he had been studying. He has a momentary debate on whether he should bring it up or not, and then he says, “I kind of feel like a dick, though. People keep asking me your name, because I guess they assume we’re together. I don’t think we’ve ever officially met, though. I’m Zach.”

Zach extends his hand, and looks into the guy’s eyes. Bright blue, like the deep end of the pool.

“Chris,” He replies, shaking Zach’s hand. He smiles and adds, “We’ve met before - it was really brief, though. I was leaving a training session, and you were just arriving.”

Grinning, Zach nods his head and reaches back for the chinese menu as he replies, teasing, “Ah, so that’s why you’re here!”

“Physical trainer, and my own personal social committee,” Chris grins, his gaze following Zach’s hand as Zach opens the take out menu again. The paper is bright, practically neon, against the stone finish of Zach’s kitchen counter top. “He pretty much pays for himself.”

A slow, wide smile stretches its way across Zach’s face as he blinks, looking down. All of a sudden Zach can’t read the menu, doesn’t recognize the letters and the words they make, can’t rub two brain cells together fast enough to make a sentence in his head. For all intents and purposes, Chris has given him brain damage with one off-handed smile.

“A great investment,” He finally agrees, his eyes bright - practically dancing - as he looks up again, over at Chris. He pauses, rolling his bottom lip between his teeth, and adds, “Do you want to stay for dinner?”

~

_and max, the king_  
of all wild things  
was lonely  
and wanted to be  
where someone loved him  
best of all. 


End file.
